


Turning Tides

by cheddarbug



Series: How the Mighty Fall [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hate to Love, Oral Sex, References to Depression, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheddarbug/pseuds/cheddarbug
Summary: A lot in the actual story is skipped...at this point I am just posting the relationship build up between Nero and the WoL.Minor Stormblood spoilers...really minor. Probably wouldn't make much difference.





	Turning Tides

**Author's Note:**

> A lot in the actual story is skipped...at this point I am just posting the relationship build up between Nero and the WoL.  
> Minor Stormblood spoilers...really minor. Probably wouldn't make much difference.

Carine sat heavily in the padded chair by the fireplace, her eyes unseeing as she stared into the distance. While she didn’t bother moving once she sat down, her mind didn’t seem to want to stop. The past few days repeated in quick succession and turned into a blur in her mind's eye. The Resistance nearly falling, Zenos making an unexpected appearance, Y'shtola nearly dying, and the Warrior of Light’s own trip towards death that now plagued her with memories she had thought long buried of her fallen lover.

What she would give to follow him back to that place. No pain, no war, no one relying on her to fix every godsdamned thing that happened in this godsdamned place. She reached for the whiskey that was sitting on the shelf nearby, the only thing that managed to catch her attention. Carine didn’t even care the brand or the vintage, only that it burned as she drank it straight from the bottle.

She had just finished it, tossing the glass into the fire without a care in the world, when the door to her home slammed open. The Elezen jumped, falling out of her chair in surprise and drunkenness as Nero stormed into the house in a fit of absolute rage.

“ ** _CARINE!_ ** ” he bellowed, passing the room where she was struggling to get off the floor. How did he know she was here? She hadn’t sent word, hadn’t contacted him through the linkshell, there was no way he should know that she had just come home from Rhalgr’s Reach.

The Garlean seemed to look through the entire first floor of the estate before turning his attention to the sitting room where the fire was going strong. By the time his eyes caught sight of her, she was already pulling herself up into the chair. He wanted to strangle her more than he had ever wanted anything, yet her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks stopped him in his tracks.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked, his fingers reaching out and gripping her cheeks, pulling her closer for a better look. She didn’t even have to answer, for the smell of the whiskey hit him like a wall the moment she opened her mouth in reply.

“Yes,” she frowned, putting her hands on him and trying to push him away. “But I only just finished the bottle. I’m not drunk.”

“Yet you smell like a distillery, and not a decent one,” he rolled his eyes. If she was the lightweight he believed her to be, he wasn’t getting his answers from her tonight unless he forced the issue. And he was pissed enough to do just that.

“What in seven hells were you _thinking_ taking Zenos on in one on one combat?” he asked furiously, letting go of her face so she could talk clearly.

Carine huffed as she looked away from him and back to the fireplace. “We didn’t know he would be there himself. That was a surprise, one I was ill-prepared for,” she finally admitted, wishing that the alcohol would finally take her to a place of sweet bliss. “And it was hardly one on one. Lyse and Pippin helped...for a bit.”

Nero looked up at the ceiling before getting up to take the seat beside her at the hearth. “It _was_ one on one and by some miracle that was beyond the work of this Hydaelyn that chose you, you survived that encounter. I want to know how.”

The Warrior felt herself loosen up a bit, her body beginning to relax as the effects of the whiskey slowly worked its way through her tired limbs. She looked at him from the corners of her eyes, a playful smile at her lips. “You aren’t the only one that wants to know. I’m just as dumbfounded as you.”

“Do you not realize the gravity of this situation? What would happen to all those people that you long to protect? You are their beacon of hope, their only chance against the Empire and you almost threw that away!” he reprimanded her.

Carine was really feeling the whiskey now, grinning widely as she leaned forward to brush her hand on Nero’s knee. “Careful, Scaeva. You’re gon’ make me think you have feelings for me,” she slurred, fluttering her eyes at him (or attempting to anyway) in what she thought was a seductive manner. The Garlean’s face went from anger to annoyance, and then to complete disbelief as she removed herself from her chair to crawl into his lap. “You’re warm.”

There wasn’t much he could do as she brazenly snuggled her entire body against him in the small padded chair, so he stilled and found himself hoping this would pass quickly. She seemed to like this, and took full advantage of nuzzling into his neck and breathing him in before nipping and sucking on the tender flesh there. If she wasn’t drunk out of her mind and he wasn’t so pissed that he might actually take things too far and really hurt her, he would have found himself giving into the temptation she presented him with. Unfortunately the smell of alcohol and her strange moans against his neck were doing nothing for his arousal.

“Take me to bed. I want to put ‘nother notch in it,” she garbled into his ear, biting entirely too hard when trying to make her point. Seven hells, he never wanted to see her this drunk again. He wanted to leave, to walk out of the house this very moment and come back when she would be in a better state of mind, but during that train of thought was when he realized that she had no one to watch after her, and if he knew the Scions, none of them would bother checking on her well-being until it suited their needs.

Blast it all to the seven hells, how was it that he was the only one that cared enough about her to be here in what appeared to be a desperate time of need? Had none of those other Scions faced death before against a foe that nearly fell them where they stood? Did they not understand what it felt like to have the entire world depending on them? Of course not. She was a tool for them, one that could be replaced with whoever was next to be blessed by a godsforsaken crystal of light. If there was one thing that Nero was good at though, it was using tools and taking care that the best of them not break under too much pressure, unlike those so-called friends of hers.

Nero resigned himself to stay with her this evening, at least until the Warrior of Light was back in her right state of mind. He lifted her up, groaning a bit at the deadweight that she was in his arms, and carried her to her room at the far end of the house. She giggled and continued to assault his neck, squirming against him and making it rather difficult to keep his grip on her. He ignored her antics easily, not interested in such easy prey as she were in this moment as he opened the door and set her on the bed.

“Stay here,” he ordered her, pushing down on her shoulders into the soft mattress. She tried to wiggle out of his grip, but thankfully the whiskey was working in his favor.

“But I want you to fuck me,” she pouted, reaching up for his shirt and the clasps and buckles. Now _that_ certainly brought about a response from him, much to his own displeasure.

“No. Stay. I’ll be right back,” he grumbled, pushing her back and thanking the alcohol that she just flopped against the mattress. With any luck, she would be asleep before he returned, making his job that much easier.

The Garlean made his way back into the main living area of the house and down the stairs that lead to the basement. The woman had certainly outdone herself after freeing him as her prisoner, buying an actual estate complete with a yard and a lovely view of the Lavender Beds rather than an apartment, and even included a basement so that he could store his tech and toys somewhere more permanent. That had been a welcome surprise, one that he had certainly been grateful for, though he was unsure of how to take such a gift. She had assured him it was nothing more than helping him, so long as he continued to help her by finding where Omega had landed.

His destination wasn’t his workshop however, but the open bath that she had installed. He had improved upon the design, using his magitek skills to make it so the water stayed hot for as long as she needed it to, and even added a feature that churned the water around the bather to help them relax. How these Eorzeans lived without this, Nero would never know. With the water filling the tub and warming up, he made his way back upstairs to see how his warrior was faring.

Carine was still laid back on the bed, so still he was sure that she had long since gone to sleep (which would have allowed him to make good use of that bath downstairs), but the moment he peered at her face, her bright eyes shot open and she wrapped her arms about his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

“I missed _you_ ,” she sang against his ear. Somehow her beautiful bard voice wasn’t affected by her shenanigans, and made the man wonder how long this was going to go on for.

“Come on, get up,” he instructed her, helping her in the endeavor. “Can you walk?”

The Elezen shook her head, her nose scrunched up in amusement as she stood there and waited for him to carry her like a princess. He sighed and cursed himself for running to her the moment he had gotten word that Zenos had nearly killed her. _Perhaps the Scions weren’t entirely to blame for not staying with her, not if this is how she acts after a brush with death_ , he thought as he lifted her and carried her down the stairs and to the bath.

“Strip,” he ordered after standing her on her feet, crossing his arms over his chest. However, Carine suddenly blushed and became shy, wrapping her arms around her body and shaking her head furiously enough it was a wonder she didn’t get sick.

“Turn around,” she asked him.

“I’ve seen every inch of you, Carine. Now strip, or I’ll do it for you,” he growled in annoyance. Of all the times for her to suddenly worry about _modesty..._

“You haven’t seen the scars,” she said quietly, turning her back to him. “Please don’t look at them,” she begged as she started to clumsily remove her clothing. He could hear the tears on her voice, the slight waver of emotion hanging on her words and somehow that pulled at his chest. He found himself feeling _sorry_ for her, pitying her in this very moment as she allowed her walls to come down.

The only thing that surprised him about that, was the revelation that he didn’t thoroughly enjoy it.

Nero listened as her emotion turned to frustration at the too many buckles on her clothing hindering her progress. With a deliberate sigh (and longing to get her out of those clothes), he turned her around and helped. She allowed him to unbutton every button, undo every clasp, and pull at each buckle until all that there was left to do was to slide the garment from her body.

“Promise you won’t look,” she asked, her lilac eyes cast down at the floor. The change in her demeanor hinted that she was possibly coming out of her drunken phase, or the tides were turning from a playful, needy seductress to that of a crying, emotional woman.

“Fine, I won’t look, but I _am_ watching you while you’re in there,” he commented, watching her cheeks flush at the thought. “It simply wouldn’t do if the Scions had discovered that their primal slaying Warrior of Light had met her match in a bottle of cheap whiskey and a bath tub of _my_ design.”

She seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. He turned around at her request and listened as her leather armor hit the floor. A few more minutes and he could hear her hiss as her toes dipped into the scalding liquid.

“Okay, you can turn around now,” she said, and he did. She was sitting with her back facing him, probably a deliberate attempt to keep him from looking at these new scars she seemed so ashamed of. As far as he was concerned, she was already covered in crisscrossing marks all over her body; he _had_ counted a good many of them, some of them he had even contributed to. What were a few more?

Nero then began silently removing his own clothes as quickly as he could, ignoring the look of shock and horror as he joined her a few moments later. “Did you really think I would go through all this trouble after traveling so far to not enjoy a proper bath?” he smirked, pulling her closer to him and respecting her wish to not look at whatever scars she was so afraid of him seeing.

Carine’s body was entirely too tense, so Nero grabbed some scented soap from the side of the bath and lathered it in her hair and her shoulders. She was sober enough by now to do it herself, but he wanted her to relax so that hopefully once this was over, she would drift off into a much needed sleep.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked suspiciously, though she leaned into his massage as he washed her hair.

“I haven’t a fucking clue,” was his reply. He truly didn’t. Caring for someone other than himself was foreign to him, and though he was absolutely sure that there were no romantic feelings involved in this moment, he was finding himself to consider her as _something_ to him. An ally? A friend? He wasn’t sure.

His answer seemed to satisfy her enough, for little by little she relaxed her body against him, allowing him to wash her lovely silver hair and massage the tense muscles of her shoulders and arms while he washed them too. With the alcohol wearing off and weariness claiming her body, her limbs became heavy and limp, making him glad he had decided to bathe with her lest she become too weary to get out of the tub herself.

“I saw him,” she said, breaking the sound of the water churning around them. Nero hadn’t the faintest idea who she was talking about, or why she was telling him this as she knew he likely wouldn’t care, but he held his tongue in favor of helping her relax.

“Zenos is a sight to behold,” he mumbled as he ran his fingers down her back.

“Not him. I wished I hadn’t seen him,” she swallowed. “Haurchefant.”

The Garlean paused at the name of her fallen lover, his chest tightening ever so slightly with an unfamiliar feeling. “Not surprising considering your brush of death,” he allowed himself to say as he began his motions again. He had heard many stories of people that had nearly died seeing those they had lost, whether it be friends or family. Carine seemed sentimental enough that she would fall under the category of fools that believed what they had seen, and broken enough to not be convinced otherwise.

“I wanted to stay there. I could have. He felt so real. I could touch him...” she mumbled on, more to herself than to Nero. “But I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me. It wasn’t my time, he said.”

“So you’re telling me that the reason you didn’t die is because your _lover_ said it wasn’t your time?” Nero scoffed, disregarding her sensitive state. “I find that incredibly unlikely.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said thoughtfully. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to die.”

Now she had his full attention, the weight of her words sitting heavily upon him. Carine was a great many things, but suicidal was not something he ever would have considered. Oh, he knew of her losses and knew her job was difficult. Hells, he never wanted any part of the life that had been chosen for her to live, but her words struck him as surely as if it had been her own fist. He wanted to strangle her, slap her face until she took those godsdamned words back, but he refrained himself from doing so.

“And why is that, if I may be so bold?” he muttered against her ear, wishing he could turn her around and watch her answer him.

“Aren’t you always?” she snorted softly, leaning back into him and resting her head against his shoulder. “I don’t see the point. I have to sacrifice my happiness and well being for everyone else in the world to have those very things. I am not so disillusioned to see that my story won’t have a happy ending. I found happiness and love and feeling truly wanted and treasured only for that to be ripped away from me at the peak of it all.”

“If you want someone to coddle you and feel sorry for all your losses, I’m afraid you are speaking to the wrong person,” Nero snapped, his eyes burning in anger. Selfishness. Every word was selfishness. As though she weren't speaking to the man whose career she had ruined with one fell cleave. He, who had risen from nothing to second in command to the most respected general in all of Garlemald. He, who had managed to raise Ultima by his knowledge alone. What did he have to show for it now? Not a damned thing all thanks to her, yet he wasn't spending his days wallowing in self-pity. 

Carine didn’t falter though, rather she surprised him by turning around and straddling his hips and pressed her very naked and wet flesh against him, though she made no move to sexualize it. That didn’t stop his body from reacting at her touch, even if he was seething inside at her admission.

“I’m telling you because you are the only person that _won’t_ ,” she replied. “If anyone is going to tell me that I am being stupid and need to get my head out of the clouds and focus on what my role is by being here, it’s _you_.”

They sat there, water swirling around them as they stared into each other’s eyes. It seemed she had come to the conclusion that she needed him because he was honest with her. He expected everything that everyone else expected of her, to keep himself safe at a great personal cost to _her_ , but he was the only one that would tell her to her face that was what she was to them. A sacrifice they were willing to make to ensure a better tomorrow.

And suddenly it clicked with Nero that it was entirely unfair.

“You’re right,” he said, using one hand to push the small of her back closer to him. “You are being entirely too selfish and stupid with your own desires. You were chosen, _Carine_. Chosen to be used as a pawn in a war against light and darkness, and the sooner you figure out your place in that war, the better.” The truth was bitter on his tongue, but she wanted and needed to hear it from someone other than those so called friends of hers. 

The Elezen surrendered to his touch, pressing her chest to his as she leaned in to kiss his waiting lips. It seemed that his forced chastisement had worked some form of magic against her as she wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss. This was far more intimate than anything they had ever done, yet Nero found that he couldn’t pull himself away. She needed him in this way, and now that she was sobering up, he was more than happy to oblige her.

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I can’t win against Zenos and I can’t win if I have nothing to look forward to,” she moaned against him, grinding her hips ever so slowly against his growing erection.

“Zenos will kill you. Do not ever fight him on your own again,” he ordered her. He wasn’t sure where this possessive rage came from, but he wasn’t going to push it back. “How he didn’t capture you and toy with you is beyond my comprehension.”

His arms wrapped around her back, the wrinkly pads of his fingers dragging down her scar-ridden skin until they wrapped around the globes of her ass, lifting her just enough. She fumbled under the water, grasping for his hardening cock, and settling it against her silken folds before gently sliding down inch by inch until he was nestled deep within her. She moaned his name as her body adjusted to fit around him perfectly, her lips against his neck kissing and licking and sucking.

“I’d rather be your toy,” she purred against him, this admission sending bolts of lighting straight to their joining. His hips bucked in response, the idea of claiming her sending him into a gentle, yet firm, rhythm.

“And here I thought you didn’t belong to anyone,” he said, nipping at the sharp relief of her collarbone as she worked herself upon his shaft. “Well, anyone other than the Scions.”

“Somehow it’s you that offers the gentler and far more pleasurable fucking,” she smiled against him, her fingers raking through his golden hair.

She seemed content to slowly roll her hips against him, and the deep and gentle sensation was a much more appealing change of pace than the Garlean ever thought it would be. He didn’t bother saying more, though his mind lingered on her admission. Did she truly wish to die? She had turned the tables so quickly, he wasn’t entirely certain of her conviction, but if she did, how would he possibly change her outlook just by being honest with her? It was true he wouldn’t coddle such thoughts, it wasn’t his way, but the thought of nothing in this world being enough for her to want to live for...somehow it made his chest ache.

His lips trailed their way down to one full breast, his hands still at her hips as he helped her keep her deliberate pace, laving her tightening peak with his tongue in slow meticulous strokes. She leaned back, her long silver hair cascading to the swirling water behind her, exposing more of her flesh to him.

That was when his eyes caught sight of the bright pink and puckered skin that crisscrossed under her bosom. One long, jagged scar started just above the swell of one breast, thickening towards its center before disappearing under the water, while the other crossed that one upon her ribcage. Gods, Zenos had _desecrated_ her. It was no wonder that she wanted to hide those marks from him. The ugly, pink, raised flesh would be a constant reminder of the day she nearly failed, the day she almost made the ultimate sacrifice for those blasted Scions that hadn’t a care enough to check on her. Nero had already been here for well over a bell by now with no sign of them. 

And nothing prepared him for the red veil of rage that clouded his vision at what Zenos had done to her. He had _dared_ ravage her flesh, _marking_ her as though she was his to claim? He had dared lay a hand, or sword, upon this irritatingly wonderful woman that Nero was currently making his right now?

He wanted to kill the bastard.

“Nero?” Carine asked cautiously, her soft voice calling to him, making him lift his eyes up towards her. It seemed that in his fit of blinding anger, his lips had moved from her breast to the jagged scar that had brought it on in the first place. “I-I told you not to look.”

“Like hells I won’t look!” he snapped. He found himself wishing to make her promises of revenge against Zenos yae Galvus, exactly how he would destroy him for what he had done to her, but he held his tongue. No matter how enraged he was, if the Warrior of Light couldn’t kill the man, Nero most certainly wouldn’t stand a chance.

Carine wasn’t having it, for she pulled herself off of him and made way to exit the bath as quickly as possible. He caught a glimpse of a third, and final scar, that had sliced across her abdomen, and by the looks of it, the blade had gone deep. He followed after her, not caring if he dripped water everywhere as he caught up to her, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around.

“Let go of me!” she cried, tears welling in her large eyes as she pushed against him.

“No.”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re lying.”

She glared at him, her eyes hardening before she turned her face to the floor. “You shouldn’t have looked.”

Had she been any other woman in the world, Nero would have turned away and not looked back. Hells, he would have done it long before now, but she wasn’t. Somehow she was the object of his most basic desires and he felt the intense need to be here with her while she was obviously falling apart. “Why not? You have scars all over your body. Last I counted, there were thirty four, these three make thirty seven.”

Her eyes shot up at him in shock and awe, perhaps even admiration? Nero wasn’t sure, but that seemed to calm her down a bit. “These scars are different.”

“Why? Because you almost died? I’m sure they aren’t the first ones to be nearly fatal,” he suggested.

“Because they are hideous!” she practically screamed, crossing her arms over her naked body. Nero couldn’t help but to burst out into an improper fit of laughter at that. She was serious, her eyes and face and body language told him loud and clear that she was completely insecure about these godsforsaken scars, but he couldn’t help himself. “Glad to see you find this so humorous,” she snarled, ducking under his arm and making her way back to the room. She almost succeeded in slamming the door in his face, but he stopped her.

“I do find you humorous,” he said, pushing the door ajar easily and setting himself on the bed as though it were his own. “I find it humorous that you are worried about how they look. Do you think I find you less appealing now than I did before?” he asked confidently.

“Honestly? Yes.”

Perhaps he had walked into that one. He was quite known for his particular tastes, being rather finicky on who held his attention, but the fact of the matter was, Carine was far _more_ attractive to him with those scars decorating her tanned skin. It was proof that she had fought a maddened, evil sonofabitch that every Garlean in the entire Empire feared, and she had _lived_. It was a testament to her strength and her skill, not just towards the blessing that he didn’t believe she needed anyway.

“Then allow me to show you exactly how I feel about how they look on you,” he taunted her, reaching for her hand and pulling her to lay beside him. The warrior was reluctant, but eventually caved in and allowed him to caressed her skin with his fingers.

Nero kissed her pouting lips until they gave in and returned his passion, her slick tongue caressing his in what was probably the most intimate kiss of his life. He didn’t linger there, worried at what more of those intoxicating kisses might do to him, so he trailed down her jaw and her long neck, kissing and biting and sucking gently upon her. He found himself not in the mood for their usual rough fucking, the reason for the twelve or so notches that were carved into her headboard. He wanted to take his time, wanted her to relax and be comfortable with showing this new weakness to him, and him alone.

Carine tensed as his fingers gently traced the lines of the scars, her face turning from him in shame as he kissed the length of each one until her eyes fluttered back to him. He trailed his tongue against the swell of each breast, sucking one nipple into the heat of his mouth, and then the other, before moving lower.

The last scar, and perhaps the worst one, that lined her lower abdomen seemed to be the most sensitive to his touch for she shied away from him every time. The Garlean decided that he would have to work on that one later as she refused to relinquish its hold over her. Instead, he placed himself between her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed and kissing the soft, tender flesh of her inner thigh. She came alive for him then, arching her back off the mattress as he dragged his teeth against her flesh on one leg and then the other before moving higher to the apex of those powerful, trembling thighs.

His eyes glanced up her body until they met with hers as he gently kissed her outer lips, already slick with arousal. He wet his own, continuing to kiss and tease her while he urged her legs over his shoulders, spreading her obscenely wide before him. Her breath was coming in short, excited bursts, her purple eyes dilating as she watched him kissing her in the most intimate of ways, ways that he hadn’t been sure he was even capable of.

Nero closed his eyes, leaned in and slicked his tongue through her folds, moaning as the salty sweetness that was entirely _her_ welcomed him. Carine tossed her silver hair back as a small whimper escaped her, prompting the man between her legs to circle his tongue against the tight bundle of nerves that nestled there. Her hips bucked unconsciously, craving more contact from him as he continued his slow, deliberate pace.

In all the times they had been together, never once had he had the desire to pleasure her this way. Sure, he had thoroughly enjoyed every time she wished to drop to her knees before him and take him within her delicious mouth, but that had been about allowing her to feel in control of the situation, helping her with her confidence when she felt that it was failing. In this moment on this night, her confidence had already fallen far beyond immediate repair and she _needed_ to surrender to something else, something willing to control her.

And Nero happily accepted that burden.

With every gentle caress of his tongue against her sensitive flesh, with every teasing flick against her clit, with every moan escaping her lips, Nero began to feel more and more possessive of this woman. Of course, he wouldn’t ever force her into belonging only to him for it would take away the one thing he loved most about her, her irritating independence, but it didn’t mean that in these intimate moments he wouldn’t allow himself to consider her _his_.

And he most certainly _did_.

As her fingers raked through his hair, grasping it and pulling him closer, he found himself desperate to unmake her with his tongue alone. He redoubled his efforts, tracing alien patterns against her throbbing center, even going as far as to oh so gently nip her until she was shamelessly grinding against him. If there was anything Nero loved other than himself or his magitek, it was his name on her lips.

“Nero!” she gasped, back bowing off the bed, her body growing more taunt with the need for release. “I-I need...”

He knew what she needed before she could say it. He gently maneuvered himself so that he could slide one finger, and then two within her depths, pumping a steady rhythm in time with each stroke of his tongue. Carine cried out, her hands leaving his hair so she could pull at her own as he brought her higher and higher.

“Please, oh please!” she begged him, purple eyes blown black with desire. He smiled against her, turning his hand so that he could easily curl his fingers within her, hitting the sensitive tissue that he knew to be there and watching as she nearly came apart. She was so close by now, her body was practically gripping him as she hung there on the edge.

“Come for me, _Carine_ ,” he purred, leaning in and sucking the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue wildly over it until her entire body shuddered around him. Her mouth hung open, a silent scream as her back bowed off the bed as wave upon wave of her orgasm crashed over her. He continued to slowly thrust his fingers within her, feeling her body clench around him until the last waves faded, and only then did he remove them. With one last final lick, Nero pulled himself away, cock harder than it had ever been in his life. One look at the woman on the bed however, made him realize that there wasn’t much they could do about it, not tonight anyway.

Carine’s eyes were glazed over, her lids hanging low as her weariness finally seemed to claim her. She licked her lips, wetting them with her pink tongue and reached for him, sharing in an intimate kiss that only sent another throb straight to his groin.

“You’re turn,” she mumbled, weakly trying to roll on top of the Garlean.

“I don’t think so. Get some sleep, you need it,” he ordered, pushing her back against the bed and surprising himself by pulling her closer. Her sweat-slicked body fit perfectly against his chest, a notably comforting fact that helped him to relax against her. She sighed, wrapping her arms around the one that he had wrapped around her, cuddling him and kissing his flesh.

“I know you don’t really care about me,” she began, interrupted by a deep, sleepy yawn. “But thank you for pretending.”

Nero pulled her closer, burying his face into her neck and sighing as she fell asleep there in his arms for the first time since they had first slept together.

The problem was, he realized that he was no longer pretending.


End file.
